Hawke Family Values
by Adrienne Valentine
Summary: [A "What if" Fanfic.] What if the Champion had a Twin? What if both Carver and Bethany had survived? [Dragon Age 2: M!Mage!Hawke, F!Rogue!Hawke, About half "creative retelling", half filling in the "missing years" that are glazed over in the game. ]
1. The Untold Tale

**Hawke Family Values**

By: Adrienne Valentine

**Summary:** Twins run in the Amell family, it seems. What would happen if the infamous Champion had a twin? What if both of the younger siblings had lived? [A "what if" fanfic.]

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Prologue

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Varric continued to sit in the empty house for some time after Cassandra left before he dared let out the soft sigh that hinted to all the lies he had told the Seeker. Most of it was true, he had been lucky in that regard, but the subtle evasion of certain facts had been hard. The woman was good at sniffing out the truth, but Varric was an excellent liar. A noise off to the side caught his attention. It was a moment before the figure stepped out of the shadows. A woman, whose hair had once been a beautiful red, but was now a faded black that clung to the shadows, stepped out. A small, sad smile danced on her lips. She said nothing for a moment, until he stood up and walked over to her, embracing her gently.

"They think Bethany died that day you ran into the Orge." He said casually as he stepped back from her., "And they don't know a thing about you."

She nodded as she surveyed the place. The house stood abandoned now, with no one to claim it, it was hardly a surprise that they had decided to bring Varric here, of all places, to question him. She frowned a little. She sometimes wished that things had been different for them. That they hadn't had to leave their ancestral home. Mairwen owned it now. As a Grey Warden, she was free from the bonds of the Chantry. She only owned it so that no one else would, however. Gamlen would occasionally come and stay there, but he was getting old and didn't have the energy to deal with the Chantry coming and asking him where his family was. He certainly didn't turned her attnetion back to the dwarf in front of her when she realized he was still looking at her curiously.

"Thank you." She said, her small smile coming to her lips once again, "I know we're far too involved in all of this to evade any notice."

"Hopefully things will be changing soon." Varric murmured, his tone somewhat sad. She nodded in agreement.

"Either way, a revolution is happening." She said as she strode over to the fireplace, remembering times from before the house had been forgotten. When her mother had stood there, smiling at her and telling her that she wanted to find her a suitable husband. She winced slightly at the memory, wondering what her mother would think of them now. She pressed her hand against the stonework, the cool chill driving the thoughts away.

"Just like Blondie wanted." Varric commented dryly. She 'hmm'd softly, not giving him a direct answer as she glanced at the spot that the mage had often stood when they had lived here. She sighed.

"I have to get back to Leah." She said softly as she pulled her hand away from the nodded as he watched her head towards the wine cellar. She had snuck in that way, he knew, and would disappear back down that way.

"How is she?" He asked as she stepped away from him. She stopped, pausing for a moment to consider his question.

"Good. All things considered. She's too young to understand any of it." She stopped for a moment, her throat constricting painfully before she spoke again, "She keeps asking about him, though."

And with that, she was gone, leaving the clean shaven dwarf by himself. He knew who she meant, and he knew better than to ask anything else, despite her retreat.

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**a/n: **Let me know what you think and if you think I should continue.


	2. Blackpowder Promise

**Hawke Family Values**

By: Adrienne Valentine

**Summary:** Twins run in the Amell family, it seems. What would happen if the infamous Champion had a twin? What if both of the younger siblings had lived? [A "what if" fanfic.]

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Chapter 1

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_She stared at the beast in front of her. All grey muscle and power, towering above her, yellow eyes glaring at her hatefully. She pushed her foot out along the ground, daggers held firmly in her hands, waiting. He roared, and she knew what was coming as he lowered his head, great ebony horns like a bull's as he charged._

_Her body responded to the noise, her foot pushing her into action as she surged forward to meet him, blades flashing. As she came to him in their headlong rush to meet each other, she leapt, using one massive arm as a springboard to get over him, she slashed at his back with her daggers before rolling down his back. His growl shook the ground beneath her as she pulled out of her roll into a low crouch; one leg nearly tucked under her knee, and the other spread to the side._

_He turned, the same hateful gaze in his eyes, and charged again. She moved to meet him when her eyes were briefly taken elsewhere. To Bethany, who, she noted with a frown as the girl screamed, the beast had changed direction towards. She shouted as he veered slightly to one side, avoiding her, and ran to catch him. Throwing one dagger into his thigh, he slowed. Enough that her mage sister could duck out of the way. She ran up as he reached empty air at the end of his charge, looking somewhat confused. Grabbing her dagger by the hilt and pulling it out of his leg, she scaled his massive back. Bringing her daggers to bare, her eyes spent a moment too long looking for her sister, ensuring her safety._

_His head turned abrutly, knocking her from her place on his shoulders, and she fell to the ground with a painful grunt as air escaped her lungs. She groaned as she reached for her daggers, ignoring the pain in her chest as she took in a deep breath. She felt her hand touch the smooth leather lacings of one hilt as the beast roared and turned to face her. His head lowered, and she stared at his gruetesque face as she stretched her fingers for her blades. Grasping them firmly in each hand, she planted her feet on the ground as he surged forward. She was upright, mid-flip, when he reached her._

_Pain exploded in her side as one great horn went through her body. So intense that her grip on her daggers loosened for a moment. Her eyes caught the sight of her sister in the distance, fighting darkspawn, and her grip tightened best it could. Sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to ignore the pain, she brought her daggers rushing forward, still hanging lamely from one massive horn. As the blades sunk hilt-deep into the tender flesh of the creature's flesh, she realized this had been a better position. The beast let out a yell, reaching for her and pulling her off of it's horn with a roar, leaving her daggers buried in his now bleeding neck._

_He stumbled only a few steps before he collapsed forward. She lay there for a moment as the sounds of battle quickly died around her and she pressed her hands to the great wound at her side. Sucking in sharply, she noticed her siblings rush over to her. Two mages, and only one was even decent at healing. Her sisters soft hands pushed aside her own, probing the wound. This time she screamed._

_"It missed anything vital." She answered softly, her voice paniced. "But it's bleeding so bad..."_

_Her brother reacted, reaching a bare hand to the wound and calling forth flames from the fade. She screamed again, as the pain wracked through her side, threatening to take over her. He removed his hand from her stomach, placing it on her back when the horn had emerged and doing it again. Her whole body was swimming with pain, and she could feel herself slipping away as her head spun. When her brother removed his hand slowly, it was Bethany's turn to place a soft hand on the wound._

_Ophelia felt the soothing feeling as the wound begun to mend. The fuzzy feeling in her head remained, pounding painfully behind her ears, but the danger of death had passed._

The scene swirled behind her eyes almost painfully as she stood beside her brother and two of their companions, staring down the large Qunari leader while the dwarf, Javaris, tried to explain their negotiations to the Arishok. She winced slightly as the memory brought a ghosting pain to her side as it sometimes did. She would later swear that his eyes had flickered to her briefly when she had winced, but she forced herself to wipe the pain from her face quickly, standing straight despite the pain in her abdomen.

The words were fuzzy and out of focus. She almost always ignored the negotiations, letting the noise flow past her as her brother, the one who had become famously known as 'Hawke' angrily told the Arishok that they had been promised a piece of his future profits. She swiftly came to attention when she saw the movement of the Arishok's men as they drew their weapons. Her own hands flew to hers, not yet drawing them, but shifting her feet so that one step would bring her directly in front of her brother.

Instinct, it seemed, made little difference as he stood and spoke, his tone holding all the threat in the world. "Then you will pay on my behalf."

The dwarf, terrified, hurriedly handed a pouch of coins to her, shoving them into her chest and giving her only a moment to react before he fled the compound, grumbling about oxmen and dog lords.. Her hand grabbed the purse tightly as she realized what had just happened. Relaxing, she handed it to her brother, stepping back and out of his way. She had already faced down one giant horned beast, and she was grateful not to face down another as he sat.

"Leave, human. There is no more coin for you here." He said, his voice almost weary. She nodded and, with a hand on her brother's arm, turned and followed Hawke out of the compound, giving only one backwards glance towards the giant Qunari. And knowing that this wasn't going to be the last time they saw each other.

As they left the gates, her brother opened the small purse and peered in, pushing around the contents with one finger, counting.

"One, two... four soveriegns." He counted before turning his attention towards her with a lopsided grin. "Only ten more to go before we can go on that Expedition!"

She smiled in return, but said nothing. She wasn't sure how she felt about the expedition yet. She knew that it probably was one of the best ways they could make a decent amount of coin and move their family into a larger house. She didn't mind sleeping on the floor of the small room they shared, or on the occasion when the rain had seeped into the floor, squeezing into a bed with her sister while her two brothers snored loudly. She'd never been bothered by the small spaces they often had slept in growing up. But her mother was often sad about the situation, lamenting that she wished she could provide for them. Were this a farming town, she would have been able to easily find a job mixing herbs or baking and she would not have felt so useless. Here, however, especially with the refugees, there were more people than there were jobs. Except, she thought wryly, the jobs her mother couldn't do. Fighting, killing, and stealing.

She sighed, and realized with a start that someone was talking to her. Fenris, the elf that had barely joined them and had helped them with the Arishok.

"Sorry, say again?" She said sheepishly as she looked over at the elf's handsome face. He frowned a little bit, staring at her before he spoke.

"You were ready for them to attack, weren't you?" He asked. Her movements in the compound had been small, and she knew her brother had likely not even noticed that she had even flinched. But Fenris was a warrior. Of course he had noticed. She nodded in response.

"For a second there, I thought my brother had said something else to get us into some sort of trouble." She answered, her tone a mocking amusement to her brother, who heard her and responded with a 'Hey!' She chuckled and waved him off as he continued to talk to Varric about what else there might be to do in this city to get the last ten sovereign.

"You are quick to defend your family." Fenris said knowingly. She nodded with a small smile as they walked up the steps to Lowtown district. She kept a careful eye as she watched their surroundings for any hint of danger. Their trek to the hanged man was uneventful. Not even a pickpocket attempt this time. (Though she suspected that Fenris' presence especially had put a firm stamp on that thought. He certainly made for an intimidating figure next to the group.)

They entered the Hanged Man and were assualted with the noises and smells that came from within. She wrinkled her nose slightly as she realized that someone had thrown up by the door recently. The sawdust they piled on the floor did nothing to hide the stench and she was reminded once again of how much she hated visiting the tavern. The group made their way towards the back of the tavern, shouting at the bartender for their usual. She slid into a seat next to her brother, who turned his conversation to her suddenly.

"Think you could take him?" He asked, grinning widely. She raised an eyebrow at the question, though she knew what he was talking about. She chose not to answer, leaning back into her seat. "Oh come on, sure you could! You took out that Orge, can't be too much different."

"You took out an Orge?" Varric asked. She gave a very short nod, but said nothing.

"We should have kept the horns." He said, giving a small pout, acting like a small child as he took another sip of his ale. "Imagine making something out of those."

"Horns?" Varric asked with a raised brow.

"Yeah!" He said, spreading his arms in front of him to show the size of them. "This big. Impaled her right before she killed it."

Varric looked at her, impressed. She never spoke of what she did. Unlike their brother Carver, she prefered to be out of the limelight. She would much rather have her accomplishments be tagged to any of her other siblings than have her name attached to them.

"Him and Carver insisted that I keep them and turn them into something." She said with a small hint of a smirk before she shrugged, "We didn't have the time to saw them off, however. Too busy running from the horde."

"You're full of surprises, Ophelia." Varric teased lightly. She smiled at him, but shrugged.

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**a/n: **Actual first chapter here. Sorry it took so long.


	3. A Friend in the Guard

**Hawke Family Values**

By: Adrienne Valentine

**Summary:** Twins run in the Amell family, it seems. What would happen if the infamous Champion had a twin? What if both of the younger siblings had lived? [A "what if" fanfic.]

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Chapter 2

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Ophelia sighed as she walked up the stairs, not paying much attention to the other people who were there. Her family was off dealing with other business. Bethany was with their mother, keeping her company and staying out of trouble- because Gamlen didn't count as company to much of anyone, really. Carver was at the Hanged Man having drinks with some of the patrons, and Damian was busy dealing with making money for the expedition. She still didn't really understand it, but mother was certainly in favor of the idea of making more money and getting out of Gamlen's hovel. She cringed a little as she stepped into the Viscount's Keep. The large building was ostentatious, and heavily guarded. She had never done well with guards. Constantly being the one to skirt about in the shadows did that to her, she supposed with a small frown.

Why the guard's barracks were in the Viscount's keep was beyond her. Perhaps having the Guard-Captian's office there would make sense, but not much else, and certainly not the barracks. It didn't matter too much to her in the end, she supposed, as made her way up, and then down, the stairs that led her to where she knew her friend would be. The woman was standing there, staring at the duty roster that was hung. She walked up to the older woman and cleared her throat.

"Oh, hello Ophelia." Aveline said casually. The younger woman raised a brow curiously at the older woman, who seemed to have realized exactly how she had addressed the rogue and turned around to face her. "What do you need?"

"Damian mentioned that you needed help with something." Ophelia answered the other woman simply. The two women didn't get on in the same manner as she did with Damian. The female Hawke had survived a severe darkspawn attack without contracting the taint. She had gotten a ogre horn straight through her, an unseasoned scoundrel, while her husband, a trained Templar, had died. Of course, neither woman talked about it. And the younger didn't mention that she had been fighting for a far longer time than she admitted to.

The older woman considered her for a moment before nodding. She proceeded to explain to her what the trouble was. Ophelia nodded along with the woman. They could take Bethany and Fenris with them. (Damian favored bringing Carver, Varric and Merril with him when he went out without her.)

"I'll be there." She answered simply, nodding before turning back off. There was a pause in the other woman, and Ophelia turned her head back to look at her. The older woman seemed nervous for a moment, but said nothing. Without any hesitation, she left, leaving whatever was left unsaid to hang in the air. It was a wary truce, that neither of them ever said anything about the resentment that they both harbored.

For her part, the rogue Hawke disliked the woman's need to follow the law. She herself saw little use for it, as she had been living outside of it for most of her life. Living with apostates for most of her life caused this sort of need to be somewhat lawless. It didn't help that her husband had been a Templar. She understood well enough that who you fell in love with was because of who they were, not what they did, but it was something she had a hard time getting past. Especially since it struck too close to home. She winced slightly at the thought as she stepped out into the sun, pushing such thoughts through her head. She still had to meet her brother in Darktown to find this Grey Warden. Or, former Grey Warden. He had apparently left the order, which struck her as odd. Their cousin was a Grey Warden. She had only met the woman once, when she had ventured off on her own freshly after turning seventeen. She had gone to Kinloch Hold to see what it was about. Why they were running from it.

She had gotten into the tower on a lie. Barely. She had told them she was a messenger from a nearby Chantry, here with a letter to report apostates that had been seen in the area. She had actually intercepted a report that told where her family was hiding, and had forged a copy, giving directions to another location. She rememebered the incident well, however.

_Shifting in the too large trousers and tunic, she checked herself in the polished mirror once again. She knew that it was late enough in the night that they would not likely send her away. As far as she knew at least. She had never been here before, and therefore didn't know how well the Templars treated messengers. She also worried about what would happen if they figured out her lie. Would they know that she was helping apostates? She knew that it was a criminal offense to do something like this, and despite that she did not look herself, she wondered if any of them would recognize her from the few times they had escaped the Templars alive. She knew better than to doubt it entirely, her chest bound and her hair cut shorter to pass as a man, she still looked very feminine. She wouldn't have minded normally, but today it was important that they believe her._

_She stood there in the entrance hall, waiting, just like the Knight Commander had told her too, giving her a dubious look as he had done so. Perhaps he knew that she was a woman. Perhaps he knew that she was a mage's sister. It made her nervous, the longer she stood there, waiting. She stiffened slightly when she noticed two Templars coming her way. Both of them roughly her age, and both extremely handsome (if she had been interested in that sort of thing at the time). They were chatting amicably between themselves, and she began to relax when one of them, a man with black hair, dark skin and striking rich green eyes, took note of her. He smiled at her warmly and brought the other templar along with him. When they came up to her, it took a great deal of willpower not to flinch._

_"You must be the messenger!" The dark skinned man said. Rivainni, she noted carefully. She nodded, keeping her mouth shut to avoid giving herself away. "The Knight Commander wanted me to show you to your room. It's not safe to go across Lake Calenhad at night."_

_She nodded again, and the other man gave her an odd look. He was a little paler than herself, likely caused by his time inside, with short, curly red head and the beginnings of a short beard. He was quiet, though he did seem friendly either way._

It had been while the two of them had been showing her to her room that she had met her cousin.

_They began heading up the stairs when a slight woman came up to them, wrapping her arms around the redheaded man briefly. It had been merely friendly, a brief hug that hadn't hinted at anything more, but the man had practically turned scarlet. She resisted the urge to giggle at the man's embarressment._

_"Cullen!" The woman said through a bright smile that had reminded her of Bethany, "I thought for sure they'd transferred you!"_

_"N-n-no." He stuttered out, the blush abating only slightly, "Th-they just n-needed me in D-Denerim for a bit."_

_"Good!" She said, barely glancing at the other two people in the hall with them, "I'd hate for you to leave!"_

_"M-me too." He stuttered out, barely above a whisper. The look that crossed the woman's face was one that Ophelia was familiar with, and she couldn't help but frown a little. She could recognize the appearance of mage's robes as well as the next person, and she was also acutely aware that mages were not allowed to marry. Especially not to a Templar. Some circles, she had been told, allowed mages to marry amongst themselves, but beyond the title of being married, it was not the same. They were not allowed children or any of the real rights provided to 'mundanes.' And there were numerous other rules associated with it. She kept her mouth shut despite her desire to scold the girl, and watched as a trio of mages approached them behind her._

_The blond one in the group was scowling at the Templars, while the one with brown hair looked frightened, and the third, an elf, looked about as uneffected as the girl did._

_"Come on, Amell, we have to get to our lesson." The elf scolded, and both women jumped at the name. Ophelia's, she hoped, was far less noticable, as she watched the four mages hurry off, the woman giving a wave to the three of them._

_She had noticed, with only a little bit of surprise, that the mage who had been glaring at the Templars had shot her a somewhat curious look as he had disappeared around the corner. It was almost flirtatious. She was still frowning in thought when they had disappeared. Amell was her mother's maiden name. Her mother had told her that they had a cousin who had been sent to the Fereldan Circle. Well, in reality, she had been sent to the Kirkwall Circle and her parents had spent all of their money getting her transferred to Fereldan. It was notoriously friendlier to mages. That girl was her cousin, she realized. Perhaps she could find a way to talk to her, see if she's doing alright. How does she like the circle. At least then if Bethany and Damian ever got caught, they would know someone. The dark skinned Templar cleared his throat a little bit, and when she turned her attention towards him, she realized that she wasn't the only one who had been staring at the group._

_"If you two are done staring..." He said in a teasing tone. She had the sense not to blush, but the other Templar, Cullen, turned scarlet once again._

And then they had shown her where she would be sleeping that night, which had quickly turned into that week because of a vicious storm, and she had gotten to know her cousin somewhat. Largely by pure chance and luck, and the two had begun exchanging letters then. They had continued exchanging letters up until the Blight had struck. A final letter from Mairwen Amell shortly after she had been recruited into the Grey Wardens. Then nothing, she had not heard a single word from her mage cousin since she had saved Fereldan from the Blight. She likely thought her dead when Lothering was lost, and Ophelia hadn't done anything to dissuade the notion. Shaking her head slightly to clear the memories, she made her way to Darktown.

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A/N: Life gets busy and I am bad at updating. Trying not to be. With all my fics. Sorry loves.


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